


A Future in the Pages

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing Harry knew for certain was that he and Severus were desperately in love. He only wished it wasn't so. WARNING for graphic depiction of clinical depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Future in the Pages

**Author's Note:**

> While it may be surprising given the word count, this story is three years in the making. It is quite different than what I usually write, but has become increasingly important to me in the past few months that I finish it.

Harry woke to the smell of something sticky and sweet.

"Mmm," he murmured into his pillow.

"I baked your blasted sticky buns," Severus said, his voice soft with affection. "Now get your buns out of bed and go eat them."

"You hate sticky buns," Harry muttered, but he squeezed back when Severus took his hand.

"Hmph. See if I go through the trouble again if that's the thanks I receive."

Harry opened one crusty eyelid and attempted a smile. "Thank you, Severus."

"Hmm. Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," Harry repeated, and allowed himself to be pulled out of bed.

~*~

Severus buttered his toast and Harry tugged at his sticky bun. He couldn’t quite work up an appetite, but he knew Severus had baked them to make him happy, and that made Harry feel even worse. 

“’M sorry.”

Severus, much to Harry’s annoyance, looked puzzled. “Whatever for?”

“For last night.”

_For coming home, going into their bedroom without saying a word, and collapsing on the bed. For staying curled in upon himself, fairly shaking with some unknown emotion, unable to form a complete sentence. For breaking down and screaming. For yearning for a way to claw his soul out of his skin. For hating Severus for just staring at him, his eyes so goddamn sad, and just wishing he would go away and leave him alone like he really was._

Severus set down his toast and came to kneel before Harry. He clutched his hands in his own. “Harry.”

“I’m trying, Severus, I swear it,” Harry whispered. “I thought…”

“I know,” Severus said. “You were doing well. You were happy.”

Harry nodded, even though he wasn’t quite sure he actually had been happy. Things had just seemed easier for a while. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin today. I know you’re trying to make it special for me. I just want to make you happy.”

“Hush. Don’t be so arrogant to assume this was all about you. I merely had an excessive supply of sugar and wanted to use it before the mice got to it.” But his hands tightened around Harry’s, and he placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and Harry knew he heard a hushed “I love you.”

“Can we just stay together today?”

Severus nodded as he rose. “That is indeed what I had intended. Back to bed?”

Harry shook his head. No, today was a special day, and he was not going to be a coward and hide under the covers. “The couch in the sitting room okay?”

Severus wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “Of course.”

Harry huddled against his warm body. “Don’t let me go?”

“Never.”

~*~

There's nothing romantic about despair.

That was a sad lesson Harry had learned early on. He couldn't begin to count the number of novels he’d read where the heartbroken heroine had simply looked up into the eyes of her devoted lover and found her spirit suddenly light again, or where the tragic hero whose nightmares were erased by the gentle touch of his soul mate.

Bollocks.

Harry didn't even have nightmares. At least, not any more than the average bloke. He actually enjoyed sleep, and relished the sweet sense of nothingness it brought. It was a welcome relief from the constant pain he felt in his waking hours. If he could, he’d sleep all the time.

But Severus wouldn't stand for that. Sure, sometimes he'd let Harry sleep, usually when he spent the previous night tossing and turning, but mostly he snapped at him to get out of bed unless he wished to melt into the bed sheets, and yes, that very well could happen, for they were wizards after all, and stranger things had happened. Harry didn't really believe him, but he got up anyway, because it was the very least he could do for him.

That was one thing he knew with certainty: he was desperately in love with Severus. If he wasn't there for him, Harry wasn't quite sure what would happen. Most likely he would simply fade away to nothingness. Severus was the only thing that kept him whole and kept that small spark of hope alive in him. Only hope though, not happiness. Not even Severus could bring that about. 

It was pathetic, really, that Harry couldn’t even manage to be in love properly. For being in love was supposed to make you happy, yet it only seemed to exacerbate Harry’s misery.

And Harry knew that if anybody deserved happiness, it was Severus, and yet he wasted his time on a lover who walked around in a daze half the time, a spoiled brat who just wouldn’t snap out of his spells. The guilt was crushing, but Harry knew leaving Severus would devastate him completely. Even worse, he knew Severus was in love with him, not to mention loyal to a fault. He would never desert him. Harry was disgusted by how relieved that made him feel. If only he could be less selfish.

Harry nuzzled against the nape of Severus's neck. "How can you stand it? Being with me, like this, for all these years?" Five years they had been together, and for nearly three of them Harry had barely felt like himself.

"You’re still the same man I fell in love with," Severus replied. "Still the same brave, beautiful, kind-hearted man who accepted me, flaws and faults and all. What kind of man would I be to leave you while you struggle?"

"A smart one."

"Don't say that," Severus snapped. "I only wish..."

"Yes?"

Severus shook his head. "It's no matter."

"I can't take those potions, not again," Harry said, nearly shaking at the mere memory of that ill-fated attempt to cure his moods. "It was awful. I couldn't stand it, Severus, I just couldn't."

"I've made adjustments," Severus insisted. "You had an adverse reaction last time, to be sure, but trust me. These will work better."

"I trust _you_ ," Harry whispered. "But I can't trust myself right now. I don’t even know what’s going on inside of me. It doesn’t make sense with what my head’s telling me."

"Yes, I know. Let's not discuss it any further today." 

Severus's entire body was stiff. Harry yearned for the days when he could ease the tension out of his shoulders with a tender massage. Nothing really seemed to help with that these days. Yet another sign of how Harry had failed as a husband. "I love you," he offered.

Severus relaxed infinitesimally. "I love you as well." And then he spoke those words Harry hated so much: "I only want you to be happy."

 _Don't,_ Harry wanted to say, _I'm not going to be happy, maybe not ever, and I want you to be happy so very much but you never will be if that's all you want_ but instead he kissed his cheek and whispered, "I know."

~*~

Harry carefully eased himself out of Severus’s arms. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep. They had spent a quiet afternoon together nestled together on the couch in front of the fire, Severus with a book and Harry with his mostly blank journal. Severus had given it to him for his last birthday, saying it might help to write his feelings down. Harry had tried several times, but everything he wrote just seemed so _false._ Somehow the empty pages felt truer to him. These days he mostly settled on scribbling his and Severus’ names over and over. He was fairly certain that wasn’t what Severus intended when he gave him the journal, but it steadied Harry somehow. Being able to write those names and see Severus beside him in person as he was in the journal anchored him when he felt he was spinning the most wildly out of control.

He glanced over at Severus. His eyes were still closed in slumber, his book resting upon his chest. Harry picked it up, careful to mark Severus’ page, and set it down on a nearby table. 

Harry sighed. Once upon a time he would have taken advantage of Severus napping during the day to orchestrate some sort of surprise. Something romantic and all that. He would have baked him his favourite dish, or set out the potions ingredients he’d secretly ordered from that high-end apothecary, or, more often than not, decide to awaken Severus with some strategically placed kisses. 

But lately Harry hadn’t had the energy to do any of that. His only response to seeing Severus sleep now was to find a blanket and wonder if it was worth him attempting to fall asleep as well. 

He quickly covered Severus with a blanket and left the room, feeling both determined and disgusted with himself. He was married to the love of his life, and they were supposed to be celebrating their anniversary today. He’d even bought Severus a present – in a fit of romantic optimism, he’d booked a private villa in the south of France for a week. And instead he was napping on the couch, still in his pyjamas, hoping to all there was to hope for that Severus hadn’t gotten him anything. If he did, Harry would have to tell him about France, and then Severus might make him go. 

Harry shook his head. This was supposed to be the prime of his life. Instead he only felt impossibly old. 

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He found himself at the door to Severus’ workroom. He touched the doorknob, only slightly surprised to feel a light shock against his fingertips. He’d nearly forgotten Severus had warded it against him years ago. It was unnecessary, really. Harry had never even tried going back in there since that one day, one of his darkest, when he’d gone to inspect the contents of Severus’ potions cabinet and found he only kept poisons on hand that he also possessed an antidote for, thus rendering his trip entirely useless. 

“Did you need something?”

Harry jumped, startled. “Severus! I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was,” Severus said. He stared at Harry’s hand, still resting on the doorknob. 

“I was just – ” Harry jerked his hand away. He frowned. “Did you set it so it would alert you if I touched it?”

“It seemed safer,” Severus said. His eyes seemed to bore into Harry’s, and he wondered briefly if he was practicing Legilimency. 

Harry tried to summon the requisite rage at knowing Severus didn’t trust him, but it didn’t come. “I wanted…I thought I might try your potion.”

Comprehension dawned on Severus’ face. “I thought you were opposed to it,” he said.

Harry shrugged. “It scares me. But I just can’t keep doing this, Severus. I kept thinking it would go away on its own, but it’s not. And I don’t think it ever will. But I need to do _something_. Something so that maybe even if it’s not entirely gone, it’s at least not just _there_ all the time.”

Severus nodded slowly. “This potion should help. I’ve spent days ensuring it was carefully tailored to your system.”

“I know you did,” Harry said, reaching for Severus’ hand.

“I can’t promise it will work overnight,” Severus warned. “It might take weeks, if it even works at all. It could even make your symptoms worse.”

Harry inhaled deeply, fighting to calm the nerves rising in his chest. “I know.”

Severus squeezed his hand. “You’re willing to risk it?”

“I want a future, Severus,” Harry said. “A future with you. And I know if I don’t do something, one way or another, that’s not going to happen.”

Severus captured Harry’s mouth in a fierce kiss. Harry moaned and wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck. He’d missed this. Severus tended to be so gentle these days, but nothing made Harry feel so dearly wanted as one of Severus’ possessive kisses.

“When would you like to try?” Severus asked, his voice raspy. “I have everything ready, but I understand if you’d like some time to prepare yourself.”

“Today,” Harry said firmly. He said it to appear confident to Severus, but truthfully it was more that he didn’t trust his resolve to last another day. “Now.”

Severus opened the door. “I’ll be right by your side,” he said. “If the potion goes badly, I’ll find a remedy quickly. You needn’t be afraid.”

“I know,” Harry said, and he did. That Severus would always be beside him was the one thing he never doubted. “I trust you.”

Squeezing Severus’ hand, he took a deep breath and entered the room, the long-forgotten scent of herbs and potions and magic tickling his senses.

They would soon see France.


End file.
